


Figured

by 0rigo



Series: The Way You Say My Name [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: (not so) Surprise DomZuko, Aang is a Precious Bean who should not be corrupted by these people, Bisexual Zuko (Avatar), Consent is Sexy, Cuddling, Cum Play, Dirty Talk, F/M, For once in your life be normal, Jealousy, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Panic Attacks, Pillow Talk, Praise Kink, Squirting, Temperature Play, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, Zuko why do you do this?, even more feels then the last time, friendship feels apparerently, idiots to lovers, surprisingly wholesome Sokka, this is why I shouldn't post things until they're complete
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 09:42:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30137634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0rigo/pseuds/0rigo
Summary: Zuko really only knows two things for sure at this point in his life: one Katara is definitely still mad at him and two, he will doanythingif it means she lets him touch her again. He just needs to play it cool, which is something hetotally knows how to do…He’sdoomed.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Series: The Way You Say My Name [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2158647
Comments: 26
Kudos: 91





	Figured

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so ... _this happened?_ This got so long that its getting broken up into at least two chapters, but this is for sure the start. And FictionVixen97 wants it up now XD Thanks to FictionVien97, IzzeFire, and susiesundrop for the beta. Oh, as this is now a thing apparently, quick run down on this verse that I never bothered to set up as I didn't think it would get this far:
> 
> Canon takes years, not months, to happen. At this point I'm saying screw it and confirming that they're 19/17 and that this all starts after S3E13 The Firebending Masters but before S3E14 Boiling Rock. And I'm just stretching the timeline so there is a lot more time between these events, at least a few weeks. 
> 
> So, without further ado, enjoy... whatever this is.

How can someone so strong be so soft? Zuko can’t get enough of touching Katara’s skin. She’s just so damn wonderful to touch, and so fucking _responsive_. Zuko can’t keep the heat from his own skin and can only hope he isn’t burning her. Katara doesn’t seem to mind it though, she writhes and mewls in his lap no matter where his fingers wander.

With her chest wraps burnt and discarded—floating lazily in the fountain beside them—she is practically bare to him. Zuko takes full advantage of it. The sound she makes when he first touches her breasts will forever be burnt into his brain. Who was he kidding? This whole evening would be the stuff of fantasies for him for years to come.

“We should really be getting to bed.” Katara’s words puff against his lips and for a moment Zuko thinks that she is saying something far more exciting than she is.

“Is it too soon to suggest that you should come to bed with me?” Zuko knows he sounds hopeful and probably a little bit desperate, but he can’t stop himself. He wants more than this.

Katara giggles at that. She’s straddling his legs, pressed up against him, practically naked in his lap, and she’s fucking _smiling_. This is wonderful, beyond perfect. Zuko thinks he could die happy in this moment.

“Just a little,” her voice is soft and a bit breathless. Katara starts to pull away and he can’t stop himself from chasing her lips. Zuko needs to keep kissing her.

This one is slow and sweet, much like the first time he kissed her. It keeps Katara humming happily in his lap just a little while longer. When he’s kissing her it drives the taste of ash and smoke from his tongue; like she’s cleansing him of the taint of fire. Even though he knows this has to end, he never wants to stop. The next time she pulls back, Zuko reluctantly lets her go; he knows he can’t hold her too tight. It would just send Katara running from him. His cock is throbbing between his thighs and now that she is no longer pressed into him he feels like he would go mad. _Agni_ , he wants to fuck her so bad.

Zuko’s mind is racing, trying to think up anything he could say to get her to stay just a little longer with him. To let him touch her more. His mind is too muddled with everything though and before he can even string two words together Katara is pulling out of his arms and standing up; beginning to look for something to wear. Watching her turn away from him feels like a punch in the gut. Zuko doesn’t even know if his ruined pants are going to hold together if he follows her, but he has to at least _try_.

He pulls his leg out of the fountain; he can feel how pruny his foot has gotten from soaking in it for so long. Zuko is a little unsteady on his feet and has to adjust himself so his cock doesn’t poke through what little material is hanging together around his hips. Katara is pointedly not watching him as he does it. Fuck, he wishes she did. Zuko wants to let his pants fall apart around him and have her just stare at him again. The rush he had gotten from her ogling him before made him feel like he could take on _anyone_.

Zuko can’t think about that now. He needs to keep his cool; Zuko doesn’t think he has many second chances left when it comes to Katara and he really can’t afford to fuck it up now. Not when he knows just how sweet she tastes, how she feels in his arms. Zuko takes a deep breath and walks over to the laundry pile where Katara is trying to find something.

It's a sodden mess. Her earlier bending has practically destroyed the room and Zuko knows everyone is going to have questions if they see it like this in the morning. Katara doesn’t seem to really care about that though. She’s trying to keep her chest covered as she digs through the pile for something that isn’t heavily soiled. Zuko knows that she’s unlikely to find anything that wasn’t disgusting though. Laundry day was tomorrow and the pile had been sitting for days now. That was _before_ she had drenched it with her onslaught and then left it for at least an hour in a soaking heap.

As Katara tries to pull the water out of one of her own tunics, Zuko spots something that makes his heart stutter for a moment in his chest. His shirt from yesterday. It’s hanging off of one of the far benches at the side of the room. Zuko knows it wasn’t in too bad of shape when he left over there last night and it’s still dry over there. He usually takes them off pretty quickly when training, so it shouldn’t be anywhere near as bad as anything in the pile with Sokka’s wet socks would be.

And the thought of seeing Katara wearing just his shirt...

Zuko _needs_ it.

Holding his pants in place, Zuko moves as fast as he can with his raging erection to get it. Katara shoots him a quick glance out of the corner of her eye before her attention is back again on the clothing in her hands. She smells it and recoils, dropping it back into the heap. Zuko can’t help the smile that tugs at his lips at the sight. How was she so sexy and so fucking adorable at the same time?

Katara still isn’t paying him any attention and she goes back to trying to find something to wear. He’s glad that she isn’t watching his attempt at walking with a raging erection. Zuko doesn’t think he could handle her laughing at him right now. Picking his discarded tunic up from the bench, Zuko takes the opportunity to give it a quick sniff test. A little stale, but it probably smells like fire lilies compared to anything that was even _close_ to Sokka’s wet socks. Pulling it away from his face, Zuko notices that his hands are shaking. He’s still too keyed up; too excited and on the verge of panicking over everything. Before turning back around he forces himself to breath. It wouldn’t be good to seem so _eager_ for her to wear his fucking shirt or to accidentally set it on fire.

Zuko makes himself take measured steps back to her. Walking this slowly is practically torture when he knows that he is going to be able to touch Katara as soon as he reaches her. It does have the amazing benefit of letting him watch her though. There Katara is, bent over in nothing but her bottom wraps, ass swaying in the air as she digs through the laundry pile. Katara keeps trying to keep her breasts covered, but she needs two hands to untangle most of the clothes. That leads her to letting her wonderful tits swing free before remembering she isn’t alone and trying to cover them back up. Fuck, she’s _gorgeous_.

Not reaching down and grabbing her ass was probably the hardest thing in the world for him to resist. Zuko did it though; as much as he fucking wants that wonderful plush ass in his hands again he knows that it would be a _terrible_ idea. Instead, Zuko just pushes forward with his plan of a grand gesture. He should offer it to her; give her the choice in whether or not she wanted to be draped in Fire Nation attire. But…but there is that stupid little voice in his head. Telling him how desperate he is for this; telling how bad it would hurt if she refused it.

He takes a deep breath and pushes the doubt aside. Zuko taps her on the shoulder and offers up his dry shirt. Katara jumps at the action, almost bumping into his chest as she stands up straight. Zuko quickly grabs her shoulder to steady her and Katara’s arms snap up to cover her breasts. She lets out another one of those adorable surprised squeaks of hers and spins around in his arms. Katara almost smacks her face into his bare chest before she takes a quick step back.

Katara’s eyes widen at how close he is before she backs up more still, removing herself from his hold. Her face is bright red now. Zuko feels the loss of her acutely, but doesn’t let himself linger on it and instead offers up his shirt with a shy smile. Katara’s eyes flash from his face to the shirt and then back again.

“It’s dry,” Zuko doesn’t wait for her to take it like he is supposed to. Instead with a snap of his wrists, he gives the shirt a solid shake before draping it over her shoulders. Zuko takes a moment to smooth out the fabric, loosely covering her. Feeling Katara’s warm skin under the fine silk of his clothing like this, it feels _good_. Amazing in a way Zuko can’t even hope to understand.

Zuko pulls his hands off of her before he does something stupid and can’t help but rub at the back of his neck awkwardly, “And it wasn’t near Sokka’s socks.”

“Thanks,” Katara doesn’t meet his eyes as she puts her arms through the sleeves and pulls it closed around her, covering her from his view.

Zuko is both thrilled and disappointed. On one hand, she’s wearing _his shirt_ and that is doing some crazy things to his insides, not to mention how his cock is twitching. On the other though, she’s covering herself up and he doesn’t _ever_ want her to hide from him. The tunic that goes down to mid-thigh on him is brushing against her calves and the sleeves that stop before his elbows completely envelop hers. It makes Zuko very aware of their size difference. Another thing that makes his cock ache. It doesn’t hurt how good she looks in red and gold. Zuko wants to see her in Fire Nation colours _all_ the time now.

Wait—shit. _Fuck_. He needs to stop thinking like that. It's way too fast, too soon and way too much. He needs to close his eyes—stop looking at her and _breath_ —but he can’t look away from Katara. Even at the best of times that's a tall order and now? With what they just did and her _wearing his shirt,_ it's practically impossible. He needs to have this image seared into his memory for all time.

Katara is giving him a funny look. Like she’s not sure if she’s amused or worried for him. Lately she’s been giving it to him a _lot_. Though usually it's when something is going wrong and not when he’s staring at her like she’s the best thing he’s ever laid eyes on. He seems incapable of not looking at her like that now. Zuko licks his lips and forces himself to clear his head; he needs to stop being such a fucking creep.

“It, uh, looks good on you,” The words spill out of his mouth before he can realize what he’s saying. Zuko’s still rubbing the back of his neck like a nervous wreck not knowing what to fucking _do._

It gets her to smile though. A real one too. Katara is looking up at him, giving him such a wonderful tender smile, while _wearing his shirt_ (He’s still not over _that_ ), and he couldn’t string two words together even if his life depended on it. This has all been far too much for Zuko to handle. He just wants to kiss her, that’s it. Katara must see it written all over his stupid face because she blushes harder again. She doesn’t step back though, instead Katara starts pulling his tunic tighter around her, like she's nervously trying to get the best fit out of it. He knows he shouldn’t just lean down and kiss her, he _knows that_. But, but— _damn it_ , _he needs to._

“Can I kiss you _once_ more,” —the words are out and Zuko takes a step forward, just a small one, hand reaching out for her— “please?”

Katara’s eyes stay locked with his, though when she licks her lips Zuko can’t help but to zero in on them and mirror the action. He _really_ wants to tangle his tongue with hers while he holds her in his arms while she’s _wearing his clothes_. Does she like how his scent clings to them? Does she like how she’s wrapped up in something so obviously his? Does she like how it's screaming to anyone who could see that it's basically declaring her as _his?_ Agni, he hopes so.

Zuko’s so obsessed with his spiraling thoughts that he almost misses Katara nodding her consent again. Thankfully though he’s still been staring at her beautiful kiss bruised lips and he catches the motion. Zuko is on her in a second; wrapping one arm around her waist while the other hand tangles in her hair, tilting her head so he can kiss her properly. She fits into his arms _perfectly_. Zuko knows she can feel his raging erection poking into her stomach, but he just doesn’t _care_.

Her hands are roaming his chest then his back, mapping out his skin with frantic movements. It feels like bliss. Katara’s tongue is twinning with his and he gets to swallow down each one of her breathy little whimpers and moans. Zuko wants to pull her up, wrap her legs around his waist, and just walk her back to his room more than _anything_. _Agni_ , at this point any flat surface would do, the wall, a bench, the fucking _fountain rim_. Zuko just wants to be _inside_ her.

Katara must feel his desperation growing as she starts to pull back from him. It's so hard to not keep chasing the contact, but Zuko releases her mouth with one last gentle suck on her bottom lip. He can’t bear to let her go yet though. Katara is now looking up at him so fucking _tenderly._ Her left hand is resting on his chest, right above his heart, and her right hand is on his cheek, so close to his scar. He knows if she touches it in that caring way of hers one more time he is going to be completely _ruined_. His heart just can’t take it, the casual affection in the action. Can she feel how fast it's beating?

“So, er, this is goodnight then?” the words fall out of his stupid mouth before he can even think about what to say. Zuko wants to kick himself. He’s supposed to be trying to convince her to _stay_ not say fucking _goodnight_.

Katara caresses his cheek with her thumb and smiles, “Yeah, I guess it is.”

No matter how much he doesn’t want this to end—and no matter how badly his cock is aching for attention—he’s enjoying the casual intimacy far more than he expected. Zuko can’t help but to return the smile, “Guess that means I have to let you go then, doesn’t it?”

Katara _giggles_ in his arms. Even her eyes light up with her mirth as she laughs up at him. It takes everything in him to not grind against her, but the wonderful _warm_ feeling in his chest that is so wildly different from the lust burning under his skin holds him back. She’s _bantering_ with him, and somehow he’s managing to keep it up. It's Zuko's turn to tenderly stroke her cheek, he doesn’t want this moment to end. The arm he has wrapped around her waist pulls her a little tighter at the thought.

“Yes Zuko, that’s generally how saying goodbye works,” the laughter in her voice is like music to his ears, especially when she says _his name_ like that. “That means not holding me tighter.”

“I can’t help it,” that weird warm feeling is starting to feel like a weight in his chest and he has _no idea_ what that is all about. All Zuko knows is that the words are spilling out of him and he’s just gonna end up saying something _profoundly moronic again_ , “I can’t help but shake the feeling that this is a dream and the moment I let you go I’m going to wake up and never be able to touch you again. _Agni_ , Katara, I—”

Zuko manages to cut himself off before the rest comes tumbling out. How _terrified_ he is of losing this, of this not being real in the first place. How he would do _anything_ to be able to do this all the time. How that, if Zuko lets himself—even for a moment—think about the fact that he has told her he’s _falling in_ _love with her_ and she hasn’t responded to it at _all_...he is going to completely lose it. All those words and more are stuck in his throat, being consumed by the warm weight in his chest and the burning need for _her_.

The way she is looking up at him is going to break his heart. Its so fucking close to pity that Zuko thinks he might just lose it right here and now. It's her big blue eyes; there's too much emotion in them, too many things he doesn’t know what they mean. Zuko can’t look. He can’t bear to see how little this is probably affecting her when it feels like this moment is his whole damn _world_.

Katara’s thumb does brush against his scar this time. Soft and gentle. If he had any less feeling in the skin there he wouldn’t have been able to feel it at all. She pulls his face down and gives him another tender, lingering kiss. Katara barely pulls back from him once she's done.

“Open your eyes.” her voice is barely whispered, but Zuko loves how her words puff along his lips. “Zuko, _please_ , open your eyes and look at me.”

Of _course_ he does. Even without her saying ‘please’. Zuko will do anything she asks him too; his name sounds too good on her lips. So no matter how terrified Zuko is, he opens his eyes to meet her gaze. That heartbreaking tender look is still there—a little mistier than before though he can’t see any tears yet—but Katara is still smiling at him. That has to count for _something_ , right?

“You are the most infuriatingly adorable man I have ever met, you know that?” Katara’s voice is all over the place, he isn’t sure that even _she_ knows all the emotions in it. “We need to go to bed— _separately, to sleep—_ and later, when we have the time, we will talk about this, okay?”

Zuko is desperately looking into her eyes now, silently begging her to not be lying to him about this. The more he touches her the more he _needs_ her. At this point Zuko feels that she is just as important to his continual existence as _air_. He’s never felt so damn _needy_ of someone in his life.

“Promise?” Agni, even Zuko can hear the desperation in his own voice; he’s fucking _begging_ her for the _possibility_ of _talking_ about _maybe_ making out again. He’s _fucking pathetic_.

Katara smiles wider but still rolls her eyes, “Yes, Zuko, I _promise_.”

“Then maybe we should seal it with a kiss,” _fuck,_ how fucking pathetic is he?

She’s giving him another one of her looks and Zuko just _knows_ he just put his foot in his mouth _again_. He just can’t help himself around Katara apparently, Zuko can’t even _think_ with her so close to him. Before he can come up with something to say that could salvage the situation her stern look melts into another soft smile. Zuko’s pretty sure at this point either his heart is going to beat out of his chest or his cock is literally going to explode all over her again.

“Hmm, I think you got all your kisses for tonight, mister,” Katara’s idly tapping a finger on the hand that she’s left resting on his chest, punctuation each word with it. She is fucking _teasing_ him. Her smile turning practically coquettish as she grins up at him, staring through her eyelashes in the most blatant false modesty he has ever seen. “If I give you any more now, I might not have any for you tomorrow.”

_Fuck._

Zuko is practically panting after that. Every exhale is a puff of sparks he can’t even begin to try to hold back, “I guess that’s a risk I’m just gonna have to take.”

It is a risk, a fucking _massive_ one, but _fuck_. That’s a problem for tomorrow Zuko, right now he will do fucking _anything_ to feel those lips on his one more time. He can’t stop himself from closing the gap to brush his nose along hers. Zuko uses his hand on her cheek to angle her head just enough to be able to kiss her again. She giggles softly at him, but Zuko doesn’t move that last inch to capture her lips. Not until she tells him he can.

“Well, I guess if your willing to risk it, who am I to hold you back from someth—”

Zuko cuts her off, diving into her mouth as soon as the consent registers in his brain. He can’t get enough of how Katara _tastes_. How she swallows down his flames and _moans_ when she does. Katara keeps the pace languid and Zuko does his best to stay there with her. If she wants tender and loving, then by _Agni_ , he will give that to her. Even if right now all he wants is to devour her. Katara’s fingers are in his hair, her palm cradling the ruined shell of his ear, and her thumb keeps rubbing along his cheek bone. She doesn’t seem to even notice his scar, like it's simply just another part of _him_.

This is what he should have done over a year ago. Back when they were in the dark, under Ba Sing Se and she touched his scar just as tenderly. Zuko should have grabbed her hips and kissed her _like this_ , for treating him—her _enemy_ —with such kindness and compassion. The fact that Zuko is able to do so now, after everything they’ve been through over the years, is more than he could ever wish for.

Katara pulls away too soon, she _always_ pulls away too soon. This time the look Katara gives him is more like she regrets having to call an end to this instead of feeling sorry for him. Or maybe it's that he can actually see it this time. Either way, it's a balm to his battered heart. Katara gives his lips one last quick peck but before Zuko can try to deepen it, she's stepping out of his arms. Zuko fights against every instinct screaming at him to hold her tighter and lets her slip out of his reach.

Katara’s still blushing as she backs towards the door. Her foot falls are loud on the damp stone. Puddles are still everywhere from earlier and when she splashes through them it echos oddly. Zuko lets himself straighten up as he watches her retreat. He knows that if he even _thinks_ about following Katara it would ruin everything. Zuko wouldn’t be able to stop himself if he started. So he holds his ground and waits. Zuko can’t chase her; he has to wait for her to come to him.

It's silent between them for a moment. The shy smile on Katara’s face is breathtaking.

“Thank you for the shirt,”— Katara pulls at the fabric absentmindedly— “I’ll return it to you tomorrow, okay?”

The vivid mental image of her coming up to him in the middle of breakfast—with everyone there, sitting around watching—as she blushingly returns his shirt hits him with the full force of a herd of stampeding komodo-rhinos. Zuko can’t keep the groan from punching out of his chest or the licks of flames off of his breath. No matter how much he’d love that, Zuko _knows_ that it wasn’t what she meant. Katara giggles again at his reaction and he almost slips and takes a step towards her. But even as that thought is echoing through his mind, he doesn’t _want_ her to give it back.

“Keep it,” Zuko stares her down intently, needing her to understand something he can’t bear to try to put into words, “It… It looks _far_ better on you then it does me.”

He wants her to wear it, to _want_ to wear it.

Maybe Katara does get what he’s trying to say, or maybe she just likes the complement. Either way Zuko gets the result he was hoping for. Katara holds the fabric closer to her, making her curves even more visible under it. She’s blushing so much from that comment. This time it's real shyness on her face and it's making the inferno inside him build to new heights.

“Goodnight, Zuko,” her words echo off of the temple walls. Katara gives him one last smile as she continues to back towards the entryway.

“Goodnight, Katara,” he doesn’t want to say it like this. Zuko wants to whisper the words into her hair or across her lips. He wants to paint them onto her skin. Zuko isn't allowed that yet, so this will have to do, “Sweet dreams.”

Her smile grows just as she steps through the doorway. Katara turns to walk away but stops and looks over her shoulder at him with the most mischievous grin he’s _ever_ seen on her, “Well, I’ll have this wrapped around me all night, how could I possibly have bad dreams?”

And with that she’s gone.

Zuko can only sputter, not able to comprehend what she just said. She was going to sleep, wrapped up in nothing but his shirt. _Katara_ was going to spend the night _in his shirt_. _Smelling_ him around her, _all night long_. His cock is screaming at him from ignoring it so long and this just tips him over the edge. Zuko can still taste her on his tongue and she just told him she was going to bed thinking of _him_.

He’s pulling his cock out of his ruined pants even before the sounds of her foot falls have faded away. Zuko wants to chase after her. _Beg_ for her assistance with the task at hand. He knows that would be a step too far though. It doesn’t take Zuko much at this point; he's been too keyed up for far too long. With every breath he’s spewing curls of fire and ash and he sets a brutal pace for himself.

Zuko’s balls tighten and just thinking of Katara wearing his shirt to bed is enough to push him over the edge. He cums so hard that there’s spots in his vision and he can’t stop the plume of flames that he spews to the ceiling. It takes Zuko a few minutes to get his bearings after that. He’s panting hard, wobbling on his legs and trying to not fall on his ass, with his slowly softening cock in one hand while he absently stares at the ceiling.

Zuko takes his time to get his breathing under control. He absentmindedly tucks his cock back into his pants before wiping his hand clean on them. They were ruined anyway, what’s a little cum stain at this point. He takes the time to give the room a once over. It's a complete disaster. Everything that Katara had managed to catch in her tidal wave of righteous anger is laying around him. There's soaked laundry strewn all about the room, with dishes and other odds and ends near the door. And now—his contribution to the mess—an impressive streak of cum along the damp stone floors. If anyone walked in before this was cleaned up there would be _questions_.

Looks like his night was far from over, there's no way Zuko can leave the room like this. Figures that he’s the one stuck cleaning it up.

~§~§~§~§~§~

The heat of the sun rising is like a living thing creeping into Zuko’s blood and bones. It fills him, forces him awake no matter how tired he is. Zuko can’t remember a time when he was able to sleep past the coming of the dawn. There’s still at least half an hour to go before the first rays will crest the horizon and the building thrum of it is inescapable. This morning is no different.

Except it _is_.

As Zuko takes a deep breath of crisp morning air there is a new smell meeting him from his pillow. Musky, salty, with a tang he would know anywhere. Zuko’s eyes immediately snap open and he desperately looks around the room. _Katara_ , the smell was fucking Katara. The pre-dawn light illuminating his room shows that nothing out of the ordinary is there and Zuko’s head falls back to his pillow with a flop. A stronger waft of her scent crashes over him and Zuko groans. It’s just making his morning wood _worse_.

This is just making it impossible to think of anything other than his dream. Holding Katara at the fountain, kissing her for all he was worth, running his hands all over her perfect, soft skin. Zuko can feel his blood pounding and he starts panting just _thinking_ about it. It felt so damn _real._ He’s dreamed about her before—countless times to the point where a night without one is more rare then not—but this time it’s like he could still taste her on his tongue and—

He rolls over and buries his face into what was giving off Katara’s delicious smell and freezes. That’s _not_ his pillow. Zuko grabs it and forces himself to look at the material properly. It’s her sarashi wraps. Well, her chest ones anyway. They’re a little damp but also singed; they’ve clearly been burnt. Why would he have her _burned wraps in his bed unless_ —

It wasn’t a dream.

Last night _happened._

Zuko’s breath catches in the back of his throat and for a moment there is nothing. His entire being is simply focused on the slightly damp, singed material in his hands, while he somehow comes to terms with the fact that _he has touched her_. Zuko has fucking touched her. He knows what _Katara tastes like._ She fucking sat on his lap and ground her cloth covered pussy against his cock while he fucking marked her like an animal.

He doesn’t know how to process this.

It had to have been a dream, there’s no way she would—

Zuko’s cock is aching too hard for him to try and rationalize what happened. The proof of the evening is _right here in his hands_ and that has to be good enough for him. He can’t help but hold it up to his face and inhale her scent again. It’s intoxicating; the way the faint catches of ash mix in, it tangles both of their scents together and Zuko is lost in it.

There’s no time to go somewhere else that’s quiet and secluded. His hand goes immediately to his aching cock. It throbs in his palm and Zuko doesn’t take it slow. He pumps himself with a furious abandon that only thinking of _Katara_ can bring out in him. Zuko wants to taste her again. He wants to lick her body and bite and suck and _mark_. Zuko needs to hear more of all those delicious little sounds she made. He _needs_ to hear her moan his name again like a prayer to the spirits.

Zuko bites down on her ruined sarashi wraps; needing to feel his teeth sinking into _something_ at the thought of the marks he’s already left on her. It muffles his grunts and for that he’s thankful. Zuko doesn't want anyone to wake up and interrupt him. He doesn’t think he could stop even if someone did. All Zuko can think about now is her in his lap, grinding against him, the only thing stopping him from sliding into her was just a few small scraps of cloth—

He should have torn them right off of her. Zuko could have burned through that flimsy fabric hiding her from him just as easily as the one that kept her beautiful breasts hidden. Then just picked Katara up by her hips and slammed her down on top of him. He’d been able to smell how wet she was, he _knew_ Katara could have taken him to the hilt in one go. Zuko’s swallowing down sparks and trying to push himself a little further in the fantasy; he doesn't want this to end until it gets _good_.

Katara would fucking _scream his name in bliss and cum all over him_. Just from feeling him enter her for the first time. Feeling her cum around him—squeeze him so impossibly tightly—would almost push him over the edge. But he would _fight it_. Zuko would make sure she came so many more times before he let himself go over that edge with her. He would have to bury his face in her neck and let himself mark her more. Then once he gave her a moment to adjust to him, Zuko would finally let himself _go_.

Zuko would hold her hips as tight as he dared and drive into Katara with everything he had. Force her up and down, to ride his cock right then and there. Katara would hold his shoulders tight and not stop fucking moaning and screaming _once._ Every sound she made would drive him to push himself faster, needing to be deeper, needing to fuck her _harder_. His balls tighten and ache with the need to cum, Zuko can feel it racing up his spine. Katara would shake and scream as she came apart on his cock over and over, she’d fucking _gush_ all over him. She’d squeeze his cock so hard when she did that he would barely be able to move inside her and—

With a muffled roar, Zuko cums hard. Beating his cock furiously, Zuko’s back arcs off of the bed, his muscles straining with the release. He bites down on her wraps between his teeth and can’t taste the fabric anymore; there's only flesh, fire and ash in his mouth now. Zuko feels the wet heat of his own cum landing across his chest and Angi knows where else. He’s making a mess but he doesn’t fucking care cause all he can think about is _Katara_ and cumming.

When his ass finally drops back to the mattress, Zuko is a panting, spent mess. The heat of the sun that filled him with so much energy only minutes ago is now a comforting warmth that settles in with the post organic glow. It makes him want to roll over and go back to sleep. Around him the scent of burnt fabric and sex hangs heavy and thick; it almost completely drowns out the lingering trace of Katara on her ruined wraps.

Which is a fucking _tragedy_ in his mind.

Thinking of the wraps though, Zuko pulls them up from where they are lying discarded around his neck and takes a look at the damage. If they were in bad shape before, they’re completely beyond salvaging now. He must have been unconsciously bending near the end as there was now a massive charred out bite mark through all the parts that he managed to shove into his mouth. Zuko has completely incinerated those parts to a fine ash. Which he now notices is also all over the place. And sticking in the piles of his fucking cum.

Fucking _great_.

Well, there was no helping it now. He needed to get this cleaned up before anyone saw this mess. Moving was impossible though, after cumming that hard Zuko feels boneless. With a sigh he lets his hand fall back to the bed and he just lies there, basking in the glow. He feels _amazing_. Zuko can’t help but hope that Katara will let him fuck her like that for _real_ , and hopefully _soon_. Even though his balls are empty and he just came so hard he can see that he hit the fucking _ceiling_ with his cum, his dick still twitches at the thought. _Agni,_ does he ever want her something fierce.

The cum on his chest is rapidly cooling, congealing with his sweat and the ash. It’s slowly helping to bring him to his senses. Zuko pulls the destroyed wraps up to his nose for one last strong sniff—desperate to get another hit of Katara’s scent—but by now they barely smell of her at all. He sighs dejectedly; _great_ , now he was fucking addicted to sniffing her fucking _clothes_. Another thing for her to get pissed off about. Instead of trying in vain to smell them again, Zuko uses the ruined fabric to start mopping up his own mess across his chest. He’s left it too long and it's getting sticky, the ash is _really_ not helping matters. Zuko is trying his best to not think about how he is using her chest wraps—that he literally burned off of her the night before—to clean up his cum. He knows that if he starts thinking about it he’s going to spiral right back to needing to masturbate _again_.

But the fucking sun is going to rise any moment now and he _needs_ to get his ass in gear.

Zuko is _supposed_ to great the sun with the proper meditation along with Aang any fucking minute now. And he can’t do that while he’s covered in his own damn cum and smelling like both a wildfire and a brothel. Growling, Zuko tosses Katara’s destroyed wraps to the floor and prepares himself to get up. He’s going to have to get to a fountain with no one seeing him, clean up, get dressed, and get to the cliff-side in—he looks out his window—oh, about five minutes. No big deal, right?

Something slimy and cold drips onto his chest and Zuko almost jumps out of his skin. There's a new splotch of cum sitting on his right peck and Zuko can’t help but stare at it incredulously. Another hits him in the cheek and Zuko quickly rolls off of his bed. _Agni’s fiery balls_ , this was not what he fucking needed today. Zuko angrily wipes the small drop of his own cum off of his face and smears it onto his sheets. They were fucked now anyway.

Groaning, Zuko forces himself up off the floor and quickly goes about finding some damn pants. The ones he was wearing last night are sitting in a ball beside his pack, but even from here he can see how shredded they are. Katara did a good job completely destroying them; he doesn’t think the silk could even be used for mending scraps anymore. Pity, he really liked those pants. Zuko manages to find a pair that aren't in too rough of shape and is tying them loosely around his waist as he heads out his door. He doesn’t have time to bother with anything else.

Zuko forces himself to walk as fast as he can while still being practically silent in his current sleep deprived, orgasm haze state. It’s sadly nowhere near as quick as he should be going right now. A yawn escapes him and Zuko absently scratches at his naked chest. Fuck, he just wants to go back to bed; or better yet find _Katara’s bed_ and see if she was up for some morning cuddles before breakfast. That would be nice. He wonders if she would still be wearing his shirt, did she really sleep in it?

His cock is already stirring again in his pants at the thought. She didn’t have a sash or a belt last night—Katara was just holding it closed like a robe—so that means it would open up as she slept. The mental image of her sleeping, spread open across her bed, his shirt draped off of her shoulders like an unwrapped present is more vivid than any he’s ever come up with before. Now Zuko _knows_ what she looks like under her wraps. He has been intimately acquainted with almost all of her skin.

Zuko groans and buries his head in his hands; he doesn’t have _time for this._ The morning sun is only fueling him, filling his blood with so much _heat_. It's making it impossible to get Katara out of his head. Zuko has had this... _problem_ before, but _never_ this bad. There's fire in his lungs again. It's practically choking him as he tries to swallow it down. Zuko needs to get himself under fucking _control_ but Katara has taken it all away from him and _she’s not even here_. Just fucking _thinking_ about her is enough now.

_Fuck_.

He takes a deep breath and exhales all his pent up frustration to the ceiling. The pillar of flames is far larger than he was expecting. He has charred the delicate scroll-work and left a black soot smear almost two feet in diameter on the marble. _Lovely_ , now he’s fucking desecrating Aang’s fucking precious Air Temple. Zuko’s chest is heaving with every breath. He can’t help but glare at the mark. The anger he feels looking at it is helping him smother his raging erection so he focuses as hard as he can on it and stokes it higher. Zuko can deal with training Aang far better pissed off then fucking horny as hell.

It isn’t until Zuko is halfway to the fountain and finally manages to get himself to _stop thinking about Katara in any way that is sexual dammit,_ that Zuko remembers everything _else_ that happened. How she found him. How Katara reacted. W _hat he fucking admitted to her like a fucking moron_. It stops him cold in his tracks. He fucking told her he jacks off thinking about her. He just… he just fucking _said that_. Not to mention everything else.

Zuko told her that he gets off on how she says his _name_ of all fucking things. That he thinks he’s _falling in love with her_. The sun is creeping closer and closer to the horizon, Zuko is covered in smears of his own cum and he can’t force himself to take a single fucking step because the reality of the whole situation is crashing down around him.

_Why the fuck did he tell her all that?_

His vision is starting to go black around the edges and Zuko can feel panic welling up inside his chest. _Fuck_ ; the word is the only thing his mind can spit out at the realization, constantly repeating over and over. Zuko’s breaths are becoming rapid and thin and the odd realization echoes in the back of his mind that he needs to calm down and _breathe_ _or he is going to make himself pass out_.

He doesn’t realize he’s stumbling until his shoulder hits the wall and he starts to slide down it. The stone is cool on his bare skin and Zuko focuses on that. Zuko can do this, he’s pulled himself out of panic attacks before, he just needs to _focus and breathe_. Telling himself to do it and doing it though, are two _very_ different things.

He told her that he gets hard when she _smiles_ at him.

He fucking told her he wanted to _rub his cum into her skin._

_After he fucking_ _jizzed on her._

Like some kind of _fucking depraved pervert_.

It’s getting harder and harder to see anything around him as his vision keeps tunneling further. There’s an odd wheezing sound that barely is audible over the rushing in his ears. The small, calm voice in the back of his head that sounds suspiciously like Uncle tells him that it's his breathing and he needs to start taking deeper breaths. It's hard to hear him though, everything else is so _loud_ and everything is getting so dark and _Katara is going to hate him forever_ —

Something lands on his head and Zuko jerks in surprise. It forces him to take a deep breath as he looks around to see what the hell just hit him. Zuko reaches up and pulls off the bundle of fur that’s clinging to his hair. Momo’s big eyes blink back at him as he chitters away. He has never been more happy to see the furry little bastard. Zuko is still shaky, but he’s been jolted out of his panic attack, so there's that. Zuko sets Momo down in his lap, closes his eyes, and lets his head fall back against the wall he’s found himself slumped against.

His heart is pounding in his chest like a war drum still and Zuko can feel the sweat dripping down his spine. Great, just what this morning needed, _more_ body fluids before training even began. Patting Momo’s head absently, Zuko takes the time to center himself. Okay, yeah, he said some _really_ stupid shit last night and _Agni_ , how Katara found him wasn’t good in any sense of the word but it all worked out. He didn’t get to kiss her until _after_ all that crap, so she can’t have been _too_ upset with him.

Right?

Katara wouldn’t have let him touch her if she wasn’t okay with it, let alone make out with him. She could have iced him in that fountain or tossed his perverted ass right off the cliff if she wanted to. _But she didn’t._ Zuko _asked_ to kiss her and _she said yes_. Whatever else stupid thing he may have done, he _asked_. He made _sure_ she was okay with it. Zuko gave her every opportunity to tell him no. Well, okay, he started getting a little handsy there...but Katara didn’t hold it against him!

Zuko takes a moment to remind himself what she said before leaving; they were going to take the time to talk about this. She _promised_. Everything was going to be fine. He just had to get his ass up off the floor, wash his own cum off of himself, make it through morning training with Aang, and get to breakfast. _Katara_ would be at breakfast. He would just have to go from there. Easy, super easy. Zuko just has to pull his pathetic ass together and get _moving_. He’s got this.

He doesn’t got this.

~§~§~§~§~§~

Breakfast is an odd affair.

After last night, things are _weird_ between them.

Zuko can feel the tension in the room as soon as him and Aang enter from the eastern plaza. He catches Katara giving him a slow once over before her cheeks go red. She immediately turns back around to the cook pot. Zuko has never been more happy for not bothering to put a shirt on in his life. Only the three of them are up at this time, but he knows the others will be along shortly with how delicious whatever Katara is making smells.

Katara does her best to completely ignore him after that. Which, don’t get him wrong, is leagues better than how past mornings went. There’s no hostility from her; no glares, no snide comments, no looking at him like he’s lower than dirt. Zuko knows Katara’s still not ready to forgive him—she made that perfectly clear last night—so her simply choosing to ignore him is understandable. Still fucking _sucks_ though.

Aang bounds over to Katara almost instantly and starts yammering away at her. Zuko doesn't pay attention to anything that the kid says; he knows Aang is simply trying to give Katara a complete rundown of every single thing that they did this morning in excruciating detail. He’s heard the speech every morning for the past three weeks and since their meditation routine doesn’t change, Zuko feels at this point he could probably repeat the damn thing verbatim at this point.

Instead he spends the moment simply watching Katara. The flush is still in her cheeks, less now, but still noticeable from where he sits. It takes Zuko almost five minutes of covertly trying to find any of the marks he left on her neck to realize that they’re just not there. There's not a single piece of evidence showing that last night happened. Everywhere he left a mark is either covered—by her hair or her tunic—or she’s healed them. Even though Zuko knew she would probably get rid of them, he can’t help the disappointment that's welling up inside him. Zuko didn’t realize how much he was looking forward to seeing them.

Aang says something that Zuko doesn’t catch and Katara gives him a small smile and a giggle in response. It makes something in his chest twist; he’s both so fucking happy that he gets to see her smile but kinda pissed off that its the stupid _Avatar_ that gets to make her do that. Aang gestures over at Zuko and Katara looks over at him with an odd look on her face. She catches him staring and he _really_ wishes he had been paying attention to what the fuck Aang was yammering on about this time.

“—s just sitting in the fountain fighting with Momo!” Aang’s laughing, gesturing wildly with every word.

Katara is just _staring_ at him. Zuko’s not sure if it's curiosity, amusement or something else written all over her face. Whatever it is, she’s _really_ trying to hide it behind a mask of indifference. There's a small twitch in the corner of her lip that might _almost_ be that smile coming back and now Zuko is really kicking himself in the ass for telling her that he gets hard when she smiles at him.

Aang now looks over at him with his big stupid grin, like he just told the _best joke ever_ , and Zuko has no idea how he is supposed to respond. His brain is scrambling for something to say that’s not going to make this worse. Zuko’s still having a hard time thinking of anything other than wanting to walk over and kiss that twitch on Katara’s lips into a full blown smile; let alone trying to hold a fucking _conversation_. The longer Zuko goes without saying something as both of them watch him, the more awkward it gets. He needs to know more of what the fuck Aang was talking about though.

Katara’s not giving him any indication of what Aang was yammering on about or what he is supposed to do. Zuko looks between them and tries to not let the panic grow in his chest. _Fuck_ , why did he always let himself get distracted thinking about Katara? Zuko wracks his brain again for what Aang has to have been talking about. The kid is always going on and on about what happened every day but that’s always the sa—

_Shit,_ no it _wasn’t_. The fountain, having to wash up and being late. Fuck, how did he forget that?

“Er… Momo got into my stuff last night…” come on, come on, he can do better than this. He’s got to learn how to fucking _lie_. How does Azula do this so easily? “Tore up my whole room and uuh… made a mess out of everything?”

Katara’s eyebrow just slowly raises the longer he talks and Zuko snaps his mouth shut before he digs himself further into a hole. Aang is just snickering at him, clearly buying his story _somehow_. How was this kid so fucking gullible? If he was going to save the world and all that, Zuko was really going to have to sit him down and have a talk one of these days. Not now though, right now he is _counting_ on Aang buying this.

“No wonder you were so angry this morning, Sifu Hotman!” Aang is _still_ laughing at him. “You should get Katara to look at those scratches too!”

Scratches? What fucking _scratches?_ Momo never touched him, Momo _never_ scratches him for anything. Hell no one has even touched him since last nig—

_Katara_.

Katara left _scratches_ on him apparently.

He needs to see them; more evidence that it _happened_.

Zuko quickly looks down to see if he can find what the fuck Aang is talking about. He doesn’t see anything on his arms or chest, and all of the marks from his and Katara's fight she healed last night. Not even the bad one across his stomach is visible anymore. Zuko is still twisting to see if he can find anything when he hears a little gasp from Katara and Zuko immediately stills. The sound goes straight to his cock as the last time he heard it he was rubbing his cock against her while licking her neck. _Fuck_ , how many times does he need to rub one out in the morning before his dick is to tired to get up?

Before Zuko can go further down _that_ rabbit-fox hole, Katara is taking a few steps towards him with her eyes locked onto his back. He vaguely remembers her getting a few slices in along his shoulder blades and maybe rolling over some sharp bits on the ground last night. Nothing too bad though, oh and he guess his shoulders are a little tender, she may have dug her nails in a little when he had her spread open on his lap. _Agni_ , Zuko can’t let himself think of that right now or he is never going to get his rapidly growing erection to calm down.

Katara stops just outside his reach and it is almost impossible to stop himself from shifting closer and reaching out. He has no idea how he manages to stay still, but he does. Zuko is enthralled as she absently lifts her arm and begins the motions to pull water towards her open palm from the nearby fountain. She made sure to come stand at his right side, Katara _always_ approaches him from the right. Another realization that makes his heart lurch in his chest.

“Do they hurt?” Katara’s voice is subdued, like she’s trying really hard to not sound tender but it's coming out that way anyway.

It’s the first words she’s spoken to him since she said his shirt would keep the bad dreams away. Maybe things really were looking up for him. Zuko can’t help the crooked smile that is pulling on his lips as he looks up at Katara. He can see her concern written all over her face and it's _for him_.

“I didn’t even notice them,” Zuko knows he shouldn’t be talking to her with this tone where other people can hear them—let alone _right in front of Aang_ —but he can’t help himself.

The blush that breaks out across her cheeks is worth it. Katara’s eyes go wide and snap to his, it makes his smile widen. She holds his gaze for a moment before giving a quick glance to Aang watching them. The change in her is almost instant. The next moment she’s glaring at him and giving him a quick smack to his bicep.

“They already look like they’re getting infected,” the warmth is gone and Zuko never knew he could miss a tone of voice so much. “You shouldn’t get in fights with Momo. Turn around and let me heal this.”

Zuko turns without a second thought and she doesn’t take her time. As soon as his back is within reach the cold water hits him, making him sit up even straighter. He can’t help the quick breath he sucks in through his teeth as soon as it touches his skin. Its fucking _cold_ ; it feels just as bad as when Katara tossed half the fucking fountain on him the second time last night. This healing is not at _all_ like it was last night.

Katara’s hands never even touch his skin, just the frozen water pushing into his flesh like needles. It pulls and knits his flesh back together with sharp, quick tugs. Like she is rushing through this as fast as she can. That sinking feeling that he’s done something _wrong_ keeps growing and Zuko can’t figure out _what_. Before he can think about it too hard, Katara is already pulling back from him. Zuko turns, hoping to be able to catch her before she gets too far but she is already once again out of his reach.

It feels like she is always just out of reach.

“Katara—” Zuko’s desperate for her to turn around and stop moving away from him but he doesn’t know how to do that. Katara simply continues walking back to the cook pot. So he says the only thing he can think of, “Thank you.”

She shrugs and goes back to cooking, dismissing him without a second glance. It's like two steps forward and then two back with her. Zuko doesn’t know what else he is supposed to _do_. He understands that she is still mad at him; Katara had made that _perfectly clear_ last night. But she still found it in her to kiss him and let him touch her practically _everywhere_. Zuko’s not quite sure what her being ‘mad’ at him even entails anymore.

Aang is looking at him _weird_.

_Fuck_ , he saw all that. Zuko just falls back on his usual answer when it comes to anything about women and gives Aang a confused shrug. It seems to placate him and Aang just gives him a slow nod, like he too has no idea what the fuck just happened. Which to be fair, he really doesn’t. Or at least, Zuko really, _really_ hopes so. The poor kids treats Katara like his surrogate mother half the time and Zuko really doesn’t want to have to deal with Aang flipping out over him fucking his mother replacement. Well, _trying_ to fuck her anyway.

Which is something he’s _not supposed to be thinking about right now_.

Fucking great. He can’t even go five minutes without thinking of how badly he wants to have sex with her. Zuko is so lost in his thoughts that he completely misses when Katara actually starts serving breakfast. She has never passed him a meal yet, so it's not really surprising that he doesn’t really pay attention. If he’s lucky she will have a bowl set off to the side for him, and if not… he gets whatever is left in the bottom of the pot. So when Katara walks over to both of them with two bowls in hand, Zuko is _really_ confused.

“Thanks, Katara!” Aang takes his serving without preamble and immediately starts eating.

Katara holds the other bowl out to him and Zuko can only stare up at her. She’s pointedly not looking at him and there's a slight flush to her cheeks. The jook looks amazing, there's even _fire flakes_ sprinkled on it. Zuko takes so long trying to figure out why she’s holding a bowl out to him that even _Aang_ notices him floundering.

“Er, Zuko? Don’t you want breakfast?”

Aang’s confused question breaks him out of his stupor and Zuko quickly lifts his hands to accept it. In his haste Zuko wraps his hands not only around the bowl but Katara’s holding it as well. She makes one of those delicious little squeaks and her blush immediately darkens, spilling down her cheeks to disappear beneath her tunic collar. All Zuko wants to do is pull her into his lap and chase it with his lips.

Katara finally looks at him, an odd, tense stillness about her. Like she's frozen in this moment; a rabbit-fox sensing danger and not sure which way to bolt. It makes his stomach clench and his cock twitch at the same time. He never wants her to be afraid of him ever again, and her still being so is killing him. But there's something else in him, something dark that likes it.

It's telling him to _chase_.

There's smoke on his tongue now and Zuko can only think about how good she tasted. He can’t chase after her though. Aang is watching them silently as he keeps eating his breakfast and the trepidation in her eyes is more than Zuko can bear. He can feel his heart hammering away in his chest and Zuko knows he’s got to do this right or he’s _fucked_. Zuko lets himself smile at her and gently squeezes her hand before releasing it.

“Thank you, Katara,” he tries to put as much as he can in those few words. _“Again.”_

Katara pulls her hand back slower than he expected her to, but still far faster than he would have liked. Figured, that's how everything went with them. She pulls it to her chest, pressing against her breasts and making the curve of them _very_ visible. It takes all of Zuko’s willpower to maintain eye contact with her and not ogle her chest. She just nods at him, turns on her heel and starts scooping out her own serving.

Another moment between them where he’s left wanting.

Zuko’s always left wanting.

Haru strides in with a murmured ‘good morning’ and it breaks the awkward tension that’s building between them all. Katara immediately turns to him and gives him one of her breathtaking smiles. Haru returns it and walks over to her. The two of them share a quiet conversation that Zuko can’t catch before she hands him the bowl of jook that she had started to prepare for herself. Then Haru has the _fucking nerve_ to put his big, stupid hands all over Katara’s as he takes it. Katara just _blushes_ at him, that soft smile on her face the whole time.

Zuko has _never_ felt so fucking jealous of another person in his _life_.

“Er, Zuko?” Aang’s confused voice from beside him breaks into his thoughts. “Was your breakfast not hot enough again?”

Zuko jerks his attention down to the bowl that's now bubbling in his hands. _Fuck_ , he can’t keep _doing this_. Zuko forces himself to breath, he needs to cool off and _calm down_. Katara isn’t his, she can smile at anyone she damn well pleases. He doesn’t get a say in this. If Katara wants to fucking let that stupid rock-head touch her, then so be it. Zuko is just going to have to swallow down his jealousy and try harder to be the person that Katara _wants_ touching her.

Aang is still looking at him like he thinks Zuko is probably a little unhinged—so basically like he usually does at this point—and Zuko’s got no idea what to say. He looks down at the still gently bubbling jook in his bowl and goes with it. It's what Zuko’s got so it's what he’s going with.

“No, Aang, it wasn't,” Zuko takes a large swig of the now boiling breakfast. He does his best to not sputter or wince but _Agni_ , it burns. There's burnt chunks sliding down his throat and he has completely _destroyed_ the flavours that Katara worked so hard to put into it today. Zuko can feel it sitting like molten lava in his belly.

Aang's eyes keep getting wider as Zuko continues to swallow it down. Zuko sets the almost empty bowl down and feels the steam coming up his throat. He gives Aang a stern look, “Fire benders like their food _hot_.”

Aang just gives him a worried look before glancing down at his own half finished bowl before back at Zuko then back to the bowl again. He does this a few times before holding Zuko’s gaze worriedly, “Does that mean _I_ have to eat it that way too?”

“Er, no Aang,” Zuko sighs, he really should have seen that one coming. “You’ll need to work up your tolerance before you try eating like that.”

“I mean, I always knew you jerk benders were unhinged,” Sokka’s loud mocking pulls both of their attentions away from each other. “But that’s fucking ridiculous! It was _bubbling_ dude.”

He didn’t even see Sokka come in, let alone grab himself a bowl. Zuko just glares at Sokka; now he’s invested in this stupidity and almost everyone is watching them. There’s a flush breaking out across his cheeks and Zuko can feel it creeping down his neck. How do these people always end up fucking embarrassing him _all the time?_ Can’t he just have one fucking peaceful morning _for once?_ Zuko grabs his bowl, heats it right back up again and finishes the dregs. Urgh, its molten burnt _sludge_ now. Completely disgusting. Zuko doesn’t break his stare with Sokka the whole time though, he can’t back down and show any weakness.

Sokka just raises his eyebrows, unable to hold back a mildly impressed expression at the act. Zuko doesn’t know if he should feel victorious or just disappointed in himself for falling into this mess. Which never would have happened if he could just _stop thinking of Katara all the time_. Actually, thinking of Katara, how was she taking all this?

Zuko can’t stop himself from taking a peak at her from the corner of his eyes. She’s not even paying attention to him _at all_. She’s still talking to fucking _Haru_. Zuko should be relieved that she didn’t seem to notice him acting like a fucking child, but the jealousy of not having her undivided attention grates on him no matter what he tells himself.

Haru though is giving him a look over Katara’s head, and Zuko does _not_ appreciate it. He doesn’t think he’s had _anyone_ see through him so fast when it comes to Katara, _including Katara—_ and he had even fucking jizzed all over her. Haru just fucking _smiles_ at him before turning his attention back to Katara and proceeds to put his fucking _hand_ on her _shoulder_. That’s where Zuko was touching her less than twelve hours ago. If that rock-head moves his hand even an inch closer to Katara’s neck he would be pressing right into where Zuko _knows_ he left some impressive marks.

He can’t do this. Zuko can’t fucking watch this. He has no right to get so fucking _mad_.

But he _is_.

He wants to rip Haru’s _arms off_.

There’s a raging inferno building in him and the only thing that is stopping him from just going off _right there_ is the vivid knowledge that it's not his place and Katara would probably hate him forever if he did. So Zuko swallows it all down, holds it in, and sets his finished bowl down on the stone floor. Zuko doesn’t spare anyone a look before stalking out of the gathering as fast as he can without it looking like he’s running.

There's a loud rushing in his ears and Zuko needs to get away from everyone before he can’t hold it in any longer. He needs to get all this rage out and under control. Zuko can barely hear the rest of them—laughing about _something_ —but as he stalks towards the training area he blocks it all out. As soon as he exits from under the overhangs, the sun hits him full force and now he feels like everything inside him is alight.

Zuko focuses on the warmth and begins to quickly go through the most aggressive forms he can think of. It's been a long time since he’s put so much raw emotion into his bending. It’s clearly recognizable to anyone who would know to look for it. His fire plumes are large and wild; aggressive and hungry like an actual wildfire and not the tight controlled bursts he should be using.

It feels too good though; to pour all the twisted up feelings into his bending and set them alight. He takes his rage, his lust, every single one of his desires and uses them as fuel for the conflagration. Zuko loses himself in it and it isn’t until he is winding down that he even notices Aang watching him from the sidelines.

Zuko can feel the sweat pouring off of him; it's running in rivulets down his back and chest, and his hair is a flat, damp mess. Aang’s eyes are wide as he just watches Zuko pant in the middle of the courtyard. He clearly wants to say something and Zuko just wishes the kid would spit it out. He shoots him an exasperated look and gives Aang a sharp wave to encourage him to just open his damn mouth and speak.

Aang gets that stupid look on his face, the one that means he’s about to say something profound or just very high and mighty. Zuko _hates_ it when Aang looks at him like that. Every time he does Zuko usually finds a new way to hate himself with whatever wisdom the kid wants to gift him with. Zuko watches Aang with trepidation as the kid walks over to him before _finally_ getting to the fucking point.

“Sifu Hotman, I want to apologize for this morning,” Aang gives him a full on proper bow and Zuko feels his stomach sinking at it, this wasn’t about to go _anywhere_ good. “I was culturally insensitive this morning and I have insulted yo—”

“No! _Agni,_ stand up straight and stop fucking apologizing!” _Fuck_ , how was this kid always so fucking on the ball while _completely missing everything?_ Was it just an airbender thing? Didn’t matter, Zuko couldn’t let keep prostrating himself for something that _clearly_ wasn't his fault. “Aang, you didn’t _do_ or _say_ anything wrong. At all. I’m just—”

He’s just what? He’s a raging pile of teenage hormones that he was really hoping to have outgrown by now? He’s going to be fucking _twenty_ soon and all he can think about is fucking _girls_. No, no that's not right. It's just _one_ and she isn’t a _girl_. Katara is probably the most amazing woman that Agni has ever graced with His light and Zuko needs her in a way that's probably bordering on obsession at this point. He’s fucking all worked up because she let someone who wasn’t him _touch her shoulder_ ; which is _clearly insane_.

He can’t fucking say _any of that_ to Aang though. Zuko knows thats a great fucking way to get his creepy ass tossed right off this cliff, and besides, he is clearly working on _not being insane and creepy_. Ergo why he is bending all his fucked-up emotions away under Agni’s purifying light. _Also something he shouldn’t say_.

While Zuko is trying to sort out everything in his head Aang just fucking _stares_ at him. His stupid grey eyes are wide and expecting. It's like the kid can _see_ every thought that is racing through his head and is trying so fucking hard to not judge him for them. _Fuck_ , how could Aang not judge him for this shit? _Zuko_ is judging himself for it all the fucking time. Zuko can’t look at him anymore. He closes his eyes and takes a few calming breaths and forces himself to find his center. This isn’t helping anyone.

Zuko pinches the bridge of his nose and forces the words out, “It’s just been a rough morning and I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”

And well, it's not _technically_ a lie. While he did have a great _start_ to the morning, it's just all been downhill since then. Zuko’s had a fucking panic attack over Katara knowing everything; he then got into a fight with _Momo_ of all things. On top of that, with everything that he and Katara got up to last night, and _then_ cleaning up everything in the room that they trashed, he barely got any sleep at all before the sun woke him at its usual time. So now he’s tired and grumpy and over breakfast had to watch another guy give the love of his life fucking _moon eyes_ an—

Wait— _oh fuck._

Love of his _life?_

_Where the fuck did that come from??_

Zuko knows that he is blushing to the roots of his hair right now. He can only hope Aang thinks it's a combination of him being irritated with talking about this and how hard he had pushed himself during his exercises. _Fuck_ , he can’t be thinking of this now. Ignore it, that's all he can do right now. Just… _ignore it._

“You do look really tired, Sifu,” Aang is trying to sound sympathetic but it's just coming off like he’s trying to diffuse a situation. “Maybe we should, ummm, take a break today? Relax, sit down by one of the fountains an—”

“No fountains!”

“Dude, you look like you already took a fucking dip in one anyway,” how the _fuck_ did Sokka do that? Where did he _come from?_ “If you're that sweaty, jerkbender, maybe a wash would be a good idea. I can only imagine how nasty you smell.”

Zuko doesn’t think he can handle this right now. Aang being naive and stupid was one thing, the kid was at least _trying_ to be nice. Sokka though? He was gonna fucking poke and prod until Zuko just fucking lost it and murdered him one of these days. Zuko just gives both of them a look before sighing. He knows they’re going to get nothing done now. Zuko’s in no mood to try and push so instead he just walks over to the bench where Aang was watching from earlier and grabs whatever shit he left there to try and towel his sweat off with.

“Jerkbender, that's only going to do so much,” Sokka seems incapable of not talking constantly. “I can still smell your nasty ass from he—”

“Sokka, for once in your life will you _please shut the fuck up_ ,” Zuko yells from where his face is shoved in the shirt. Its yesterday’s and it smells, but he doesn’t fucking care right now. It’s doing the damn job and making it so he doesn't have to look at either of them.

“Shit dude, what crawled up your ass and _died_ —”

“Sokka! Sifu Hotman is just tired today!” Aang is trying; he’s fucking _trying_. “He couldn’t sleep cause—um… why couldn’t you sleep Sifu?”

_Agni_ , why the hell did the kid have to fucking _care?_ Zuko goes on _one_ fucking trip with the guy to learn the ancient secrets of firebending and now Aang wants to be his _best friend_ or something else completely ridiculous. He knows he has to answer him, the two of them are going to pester him _forever_ until he spills. Aang, because he _cares_ (who the fuck _cares_ about other people this much?) and Sokka because he is an _asshole_ and knows it bugs him.

“Yeah _jerkbender_ , why _didn’t_ you sleep last night?” Sokka’s not even trying to hide his suspicion now. “Up late, _plotting your betrayal?_ ”

Zuko is too tired to properly yell at him, “Yes Sokka, that’s _clearly_ what keeps me up at night. My burning desire to kidnap Aang and betray you all _after_ I had the perfect opportunity to do that and _obviously didn’t_.”

“Well maybe you were just biding your time!” Sokka’s just getting started, the excitement in his voice is coming through loud and clear as he spins his elaborate theory. “You’re clearly trying to gain our trust! This is an elaborate ruse that you're setting up! A _long con_ if you will; you’re _marinating_ us. Slowly getting us to individually put our faith in you so at the very last moment you can turn around and stab us in the back in the most dramatic way possible and make yourself king of the world! Then you’re going to twirl your evil mustache and do a bunch of _things! Evilly!!_ ”

Both Zuko and Aang just stare at Sokka as his rant echoes off of the stone around them. Zuko doesn't think he has ever heard such an outlandish theory in his _life_. Aang is just looking between the both of them to see who's going to say something first, like he is expecting Zuko to just fly off the handle. But Zuko is too floored by the utter _stupidity_ of it all to even be _mad_.

“Okay, yeah, now that I’ve said that out loud it doesn’t sound as good as it was in my head,” Sokka shrugs. “But still, the point remains; you _could_ be plotting our demise.”

“And so could fucking _Momo_ ,” Zuko says flatly and Aang shoots him a look. “But I don’t see you accusing _him_ of anything.”

“Well, actually Zuko, you kind of missed all that,” Aang chimes in sheepishly. “Sokka used to blame Momo for _everything_ … actually, thinking about it, he only stopped after you joined up with us and started blaming you instead.”

He can only give Sokka an unamused stare, “Wow, _thanks Sokka_ , I’m so fucking _honoured_ to be your new scapegoat for everything.”

Sokka just shrugs again, “Just saying you're the most suspicious person here, jerkbender. Something goes wrong, I'm looking at you until something better comes along.”

“You know it's innocent until proven guilty, not the other way around right?” Zuko tosses his disgusting shirt back to the bench before plopping down on it himself, “The burden of proof is on the accuser, not the accused.”

“Ah-ha! So you are saying you are in a position to be accused of something!” Sokka looks at him triumphantly.

“What? No—” he totally _is_ in a position to be accused of something, just not the thing Sokka is accusing him of. Fuck, he’s got to calm down. “I’m just _trying_ to explain how the fucking judicial process fucking works you complete and utter…”

Zuko trails off as he finally notices Sokka’s shit-eating grin as he is clearly trying to hold back laughter. As soon as he sees Zuko notice it, Sokka breaks down laughing. Its eerily familiar to how Katara laughed at him last night; well, without the whole making his dick twitch— _that_ would be fucking awkward. Sokka is now hollering with laughter—even Aang is chuckling along now—and Zuko does not get the joke. He can only stare at both of them, waiting for one of them to fucking calm down and explain what the fuck just happened.

Clearly though his confusion is just making matters worse and Sokka just keeps fucking _laughing_. It’s nowhere near as nice as being on the receiving end of Katara’s laughter. Even when she was laughing _at_ him it didn’t feel like he was the butt of the joke. Her brother on the other hand, hell no, Sokka is definitely, one hundred percent, _laughing at him_. Aang just thinks everything is fucking funny, so he can’t be too mad at the kid. On second thought, they’ve been going off now for far too long, he’s fucking pissed at him too.

“ _What?_ ” he had just managed to calm himself down and now Sokka has him practically spitting sparks again.

“Dude!” —Sokka is still wheezing— “Tui, you make it so damn _easy!”_

Aang’s smile is wide enough that it looks like it's going to crack his face in half, “Sifu Hotman, Sokka’s just teasing you.”

Zuko can only look at both of them in confusion. _Teasing him?_ Sokka … Sokka _teases_ him now? When in the ever-loving _fuck_ did that happen? Sokka still hates him though, right? He’s so lost in trying to figure it out that he doesn’t even notice Sokka pushing Zuko’s sweat-soaked shirt off the bench with his foot to plop down beside him. It isn’t until Sokka pats his back awkwardly that he realises both of them are far closer than they were when the laughing started.

“Damn dude, you are seriously not used to having friends aren’t you?” Sokka is giving him an amused but sad look. Like he’s feeling _sorry_ for him or something.

“Hey! I—I’ve totally had friends!” As soon as the words are out of his mouth, Zuko _knows_ he has made a mistake.

Sokka has fucking full-blown _pity_ written all over his face and Aang looks like he is one stupid comment away from trying to give Zuko a fucking _hug_. This is so not what he needs right now. Sokka is clasping his shoulder in such a supportive _brotherly_ way that Zuko thinks he might just throw up if they say one more fucking sappy thing.

“ _Agni,_ can we _please_ stop talking about this?” Zuko buries his head in his hands, he can’t fucking take the way either of them are looking at him right now. “Just go back to roasting me over not being able to sleep or something, _I don’t care,_ just—stop with all this ‘ _feelings’ crap_.”

“Yeah okay, just cause you look like you had a fucking shit night,” Sokka is back to sounding amused. “Next time though, gonna hit you with a full-blown friendship speech that will make Katara’s look like child's play.”

“You know Sifu Hotman,” Aang sits down on his other side and Zuko is definitely starting to feel cornered now. “It's okay to have feelings, and repressing them like this is only going to hurt you in the long term. Monk G—”

“Aang, one more word about that and I am going to prove Sokka right and try to fucking toss you off this cliff _right now_.”

Aang chuckles weakly while Sokka just guffaws and slaps his back. Back slapping, another thing that's new. It feels weird to have someone touching him in a way that isn’t strictly sexual or meant to harm. Not bad per se, just … _weird_. Zuko thinks he might grow to like it, but he’s not going to tell them that. Figures it would be with these two chuckle-fucks that he comes to this realization.

But as almost nice as it is, its getting _really fucking weird now_. Zuko just looks at the hand Sokka still has on his arm, “Sokka, you're still touching me.”

“Yep, that I am.”

“ _Why?”_

“Well I’ve been asking myself that very same question, jerkbender,” Sokka continues to pat his shoulder. “You are _clearly_ touch-starved so I’m doing you a public service at this point but _fuck dude_ , how the hell are you this fucking sweaty? It’s fucking _nasty_.”


End file.
